


(Absence Makes) The Heart Grow Fonder

by SwashbuckLore



Series: The Proverbs of JBB & SGR [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Awesome Clint Barton, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner Hulks Out, Bucky Barnes Feels, Diary/Journal, Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Letters, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Science Bros, Science Experiments, Self-Harm, Sick Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Thor Friendship, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Stark Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 10:52:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16931925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwashbuckLore/pseuds/SwashbuckLore
Summary: Steven Grant Rogers, 70 years past his due date, trying to process the 21st Century.





	1. New York City Glows

[Written underneath a picture of people chipping Steve out of the ice, paperclipped into a brand new sketchbook.]  


~I'm still cold. I asked for a copy of this picture to remind myself that *I got out.* I'm not unconscious anymore. I'm not frozen anymore. The choking freezing water isn't filling the ship around me anymore. I pretend I'm fine and I use my USO stage smile when needed: "Yes, ma'am/sir, I'm doing well! Thank you for asking." I'm awake, and I'm -mostly- free, excepting SHIELD's restrictions on my actions and location. 

But I'm so cold. All the time. [Letters shaky]

[Sketch of the ceiling of the Valkyrie.]  


~This is what I see when I close my eyes. It wasn't a fast crash. I had time to lie down, to accept my fate, to think. Time to memorize the damn ceiling as the ship creaked and filled around me. 

Death didn't want me.

[Detailed drawing of a hand clawing upwards desperately. Page smudged and warped with tearmarks.]

~I miss you, Buck. Dreamt of you again. The only dream I have of you. It's hell without you. Fate or Erskine's serum didn't let me follow you this time. 

[Stylized doodle of the phrase 21st Century.]

~I didn't want to see the future. Buck did. He was crazy about it. I just wanted to do what was right, to fight the corrupt, to make Erskine proud, and to keep my men alive. 

They're all dead now.

I'm finally truly feeling something Bucky said during the war. To quote. "Despair sits on my shoulder and sings to me all fuckin’ day."

[Scribbled into the sketchbook after an intricate pencil drawing of NYC's Times Square at night, empty except for Steve. Every single screen staring down at him is filled with the SHIELD logo.]

~Director Fury said I was allowed to leave briefly. He also looked at me as if to say I wasn't a prisoner. Hah. I went back to Times Square. Last time I was here, SHIELD had me surrounded. The time before that, it was a different world ...

[Caption under a sketch of the view of an NY street through a metal barred second story window. The lines on the bars are heavy enough to leave grooves in the page while the rest of the drawing is almost dreamy it's so lightly marked down.]

~I wasn't expressly forbidden to go out before, but a buncha guys in suits have been following me outside SHIELD Headquarters. They say that it's for my safety. I'm not really behind bars, technically. However, it's only my ignorance of this entire fucking world and the fact that Peggy started this shit that's kept me from breaking as many walls as it takes to escape. 

[Self protrait of Steve, looking utterly miserable.]

~I learned a new expression today. FML.


	2. Chapter 2

[Small doodle of a dragon atop a heap coins]

~Pegs made sure I was listed as MIA and that I'd get army pay until I was confirmed KIA. As a result, I could probably buy Brooklyn.

[Calligraphy of The Howling Commandos, underlined by each of their names and followed by the scribbled name Howard Stark.]

~Gone.

[Drawing of a patched up leather jacket]

~I miss my jacket. All my belongings are either in collections, museums or SHIELD archives. They gave me a new wardrobe in the meanwhile, and they're working on getting me the rest of my effects. Claim there’s “a ton of paperwork.” 

[Doodle of an eye patch and a trench coat smoking ominously.]

~Director Fury is stalling the recovery of my belongings. He recommends that I take a class - if not several - on the last 70 years before I move out of SHIELD premises. However, I've cleared my examinations. I’m a citizen of the United States. I’m apparently a revered war hero. I’m not staying longer than I have to.

[Drawing of Captain America’s shield, covered in frost.]

~I was deemed safe to get my own damn shield back. It felt icy under my fingers.

[Tracing of the SHIELD logo]

~Peggy, I don’t know what you started, and I’m tired of it. Maybe it would be better if you were here, but Director Fury doesn’t trust me at all. People - more discreetly - follow me when I leave HQ. I’m too tired to try to lose them. I’ve been asleep for seventy years, Pegs, and I’m still exhausted. It’s funny.

[Collage of sketches: a front door, sunlight falling through a window onto a table, a lamp, a SHIELD file]

~I bought an apartment in Brooklyn. It’s quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the filler - I promise the next chapter is stealing my muse and my energy and will be much better.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a bit of graphic violent description in here. 
> 
> Fair warning, Steve is grieving. Turn back now if you don't want to see that

[Drawing of Steve’s living room.]

[Drawing of the carpet in photographic detail.]

[Drawing of the grooves and whorls in a fingertip smudged with graphite.]

~It’s quiet.

[Scribbled out sketch of a hamburger with the word ‘delicious’ under it.]

~After a week of it at SHIELD, I - can’t - make myself be happy.

[Page entirely empty except for the letter B at the top left corner.]

[Sketch of an icy chasm below a train track.]

~I had another nightmare I lost you. I’m waiting to wake up.

[Completely scribbled out sketch.] 

~There aren’t words vile enough to accurately call myself. I should have followed you into that chasm. They would have looked harder for Captain America.

[Sketch of a HYRDA agent with two blazing Tesseract guns]

~I … I smashed his helmet in with my bare hands. And I didn’t stop punching until the shards of his helmet and skull were embedded into my knuckles. He was dead when I hit him with my shield.

[Intricate drawing of Bucky’s eyes, looking haunted.]

~Every car horn and shout translates into you whispering my name like I’ve never heard it before.

I haven’t had an asthma attack since Erskine, but something inside me won’t let me breathe so I sit here and gasp and gasp, and Buck I can’t breathe. [Words warped with tear marks.]

[Intricate drawing of Bucky’s lips curling into a scowl, jaw and chin unshaved, delicate attention paid to each line]

~I haven’t eaten in a day, and I haven’t slept in a week. I’ve accidentally dozed a few times. You’d be so angry at me, Bucky. But my bed is too soft and it’s cold. I don’t want to sleep in it without you.

I’m not the one who’s good with words. I draw my feelings. But, Buck, Bucky, Bucky, there isn’t art for this. My hands shake too hard when I try to draw you in whole. My eyes blur, my fingers cramp, my whole chest tightens.

You. You’re all there was. That’s it. There’s not a sketch that’s going to make this better. There’s not a pencil that can draw you back.

I followed you across the ocean, over enemy lines, into HYDRA and back. I should have followed you into that chasm.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of this is derived from the deleted Avengers scenes of Captain America. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pov4qMSfg9w. Enjoooooooy

[Drawing of a campfire, the Howling Commandos laughing around it. An outsider’s point of view.]

I didn’t fit with them like you did, Buck. You were always the bridge between me and the rest of the world. 

[Sketch of pre-serum Steve ascending a set of stairs with Sarah Rogers’ and Abraham Erskine’s arms wrapped around his waist to hold him up. Peggy Carter stands a step behind, her hand resting on his shoulder.] [Drawing of Steve’s oversized pre-serum hands reaching up towards a single hand that cuts off at the wrist.]

The only other people who ever reached out as sincerely as you did were Ma and Erskine and Peggy. But they were different. I needed Ma. I honored Erskine. I admired Peggy; I’ll admit that I ‘fancied’ her, too. But for you, Buck, there’s a feeling deeper than need and honor and admiration, though I have each of those for you. I love you.

Even though you’re gone, I love you.

[Picture of the individual Howling Commandos and Howard Stark.]

They’re gone. He’s gone. 

Gone.  
[Paperclipped photo of Peggy] 

57-J Merryweather  
Winchester, UK

020 - 7946 03560

I broke her heart, Buck. I could hear it in her voice. It haunts me.

[Sketch of a car, sleek and new]

Everything is so incredibly different. It’s like living in a sci-fi comic.

I walk the streets because the goddamn silence in my apartment is turning into accusations and misery. New Yorkers are the same - nobody gives me a second glance, not even when I stare at something.

[Drawing of buildings on a folded paper, paperclipped in.] 

I wasn’t doing anything so I went to a cafe today. They made good coffee. I tried to draw the view. Some of the buildings I remember. So many I don’t.

An older gentleman told me to ask for the waitress’ number. All I could think was that’s something you’d do, Buck. 

[Sketch of the train station.]

I ride alone.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for the encouragement and beta'ing @ thepinupchemist :)


End file.
